


They Hate Being Sick—The Brownies Saga (rewriting!)

by metamookiisle



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: All Platonic - Freeform, Background Tubbo, Bandages, Brotherly Affection, Brothers AU, Cuddling, Feelings of uselessness, Forehead Kisses, Friendly banter, Hugging, ITS ALL PLATONIC GUYS THIS IS A BROTHERS AU OKAY, Light Angst, Modern AU, NOT ABANDONED I SWEAR !!!!!!, No Romance, Pandel family, Sick Fic, Sleepy Bois Inc. - Freeform, Sleepyboisinc - Freeform, Swearing, Touch-Starved, adding tags as I go, brotherly relationships, dont ship irl ccs that is Gross, if you are looking for shippy shit then this is not ur fic, im so fuckign tired i cant type, mentions of bullying, no beta we die like men, no romantic - Freeform, ok maybe a bit more angst than i said, philza kisuke urahara kinnie?????????, platonic, rewriting, sick day, slight blood mentions, techno has dyed pink hair and glasses because i say so, techno undercut POGGERS, this is NOT their irl selves this is more just their avatars or online characters or some shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:00:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25987819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/metamookiisle/pseuds/metamookiisle
Summary: Tommy hated being sick. It made him feel useless.Wilbur hated being sick. It made him feel like a burden.Techno hated being sick. It made him feel weak.Phil hated being sick. It made him feel irresponsible.i wrote this at like 2am dont judge me... self indulgent more modern/not fantasy sbi+co brothers au, sick day, yadda yadda i can barely type. enjoy**ALSO: THIS FIC IS COMPLETELY PLATONIC. THERE IS NO ROMANCE. IF YOU SHIP IRL PEOPLE GO AWAY YOU NASTY :D****UPDATE:**HIHI!!!! im going to be completely rewriting this !!!!!!! my latest chapter explains stuff more in detail so for all the people who have been waiting for the third chapter please read that :0000
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & Phil Watson, Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit, Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot, Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson & TommyInnit, Phil Watson & TommyInnit, Toby Smith | Tubbo & Alastair | Eret, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 112
Kudos: 1253





	1. 1—tommy

**Author's Note:**

> tysm for clicking! means a lot! anyways, this is a VERY self-indulgent sick fic series i'm working on :) enjoy!

Tommy hated being sick. It made him feel useless.

He’d woken up feverish yet cold; shivering, sweating and nauseated under the blankets in his room. It was a cold winter’s day, perhaps he could fall asleep for a little bit before school and maybe heal up a bit. His teeth chattered as he attempted to curl up beneath the covers and fall back asleep, but he was rudely interrupted by a gentle knock on the door.

This was different, he thought. Techno or Wilbur were usually the ones waking him up, and when they did, they didn’t do it so… _quietly_. It must have been Phil, then.

Tommy’s inference proved correct as the oldest brother of the four stepped into his room and carefully walked over to his bed where the teen was laying down. “...Tommy?” he whispered. “It’s time to get up for school.”

Ah. If it was already time to get moving, he’d do that. He sat up and blearily blinked, still very cold. The heat was on and he could smell bacon coming from the kitchen, but he could ignore his constant chills and get going with his day, right?

He yawned and looked at Phil. Their blue eyes met before Tommy’s shifted away to look at the window. “G’morning.”

“You don’t look too good.”

Tommy froze. Ah, no, he couldn’t be caught sick today. Some quick lying with a bit of self deprecation would work.  
“Damn, Phil, you know I’m a self-conscious teenager, right? No need to make comments about my appearance, yeah?” He laughed tiredly, ignoring a rising feeling of dizziness. “Best to keep those comments for my good days.”

Phil sighed. “You know that’s not what I meant. I just mean you look a bit sick. Let me feel y—“

Tommy immediately cut him off. “No thanks, I’m feeling fine. I think I can make it through today.”

Phil eyed him a bit strangely and left the room. Tommy had a feeling he’d be back.

About forty-five seconds later, the oldest came back, this time dragging the second youngest brother Wilbur into the room. The lanky brown-haired man groaned. “Phil, I don’t care about Tommy’s forehead, there was nothing wrong with it last time i saw it. It’s not injured or anything—“

He stopped in his tracks as he laid eyes upon his brother. Tommy hated the feeling of his gaze upon his face and looked down to his hands clenched in the fabric of his blankets. “Wil—“

Wilbur immediately speed-walked over to Tommy and reached his long arms out towards him, attempting to touch his forehead to see if he had a fever. Phil had already told him his suspicions of Tommy being sick and forced Wilbur to come in.

“Wil. Wil, stop— _Wil_ —“  
“Just let me fucking touch it—“  
“I’m not sick, I can go to school! Come on!”  
“You’re _burning up,_ Tommy, that heat’s insane. Phil, ask Techno to get a thermometer.”  
_“I don’t need fucking Techno in here too, Wil, I don’t need this attention—"_

“Sure”, said Phil, ignoring the flailing mess of limbs from Tommy and Wilbur, and leaned over the edge of the door frame. “Oi, Techno, bring the thermometer into Tommy’s room.”

A muffled voice resounded from the kitchen. “Thermometer? Why, is somethin’ wrong with Tommy?”

“There’s nothing wrong,” Tommy said with gritted teeth.

“Liar.”  
“I’m not lying, I’m… oh, whatever. Fine. I guess I’m sick—“ He punctuated his sentence with sarcastic jazz hands—“But I don’t need everyone freaking out over me. Go do your shit. I’m going to school.”

“No, you’re not. Let me take your temperature first.”  
Tommy turned his head slowly towards Techno, pink hair with brown roots messy like usual, standing at the edge of the bed with Wilbur. Both of their deadpan expressions gave nothing away as they stared into Tommy’s soul. For some reason they had their glasses, Wilbur’s circular and Techno’s rectangular, and their matching grey turtlenecks. Perhaps it was coincidental? Tommy’s brain was too muddled to think of any reasoning. He was trying to pay attention to what was going on, but his head felt fuzzy and like it was filled with cotton balls.

“I don’t want to stay at home. I need to go to school.”

Phil crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. “If you go to school you’ll either get people sick or get sicker. If you stay at home, you can rest up and go to school sooner.”  
“Sooner than if I go today?”

Techno’s monotonous voice interrupted the dialogue. “Look, Tommy, you wouldn’t even make it to school. You slept in a bit later and we’ve been arguin’ for, like, ten minutes, so you’d already be real late.”

Wilbur scoffed indignantly. “ _We?_ Techno, you weren’t even part of the conversation.”  
“You say that like you yourself were actively participatin’.”  
“Oh, bugger off, English major. Your bacon’s burning anyway.”  
“Shit,” muttered Techno, and left Tommy’s room. Wilbur was right— the smell of burnt ham was starting to drift through the apartment. Techno was never that good at cooking anyways.  
There was a bit of silence before Wilbur spoke up again. “You’re not going to school and that is _final._ ”

Tommy sighed glumly. “But Tubbo—“  
“Techno can take care of it.”  
“No, Techno doesn’t know how to deal with those guys, Tubbo’s defenseless. They’ll just beat him up too.”  
Phil laughed. “Nobody can beat up Techno.” Wilbur chortled and clapped his hands. “I’ve done it once, remember?”  
“No.”  
“When we were kids, before his growth spurt? Seriously? You don’t?”

The small talk went on for a while before the youngest felt a wave of sleepiness go through his body, making his eyes droop. Phil paused mid-laugh and let out a quiet “ah” before ushering Wilbur out of the room, who whispered something about homework and left. Phil’s footsteps grew closer to the bed and Tommy could feel a pair of lips press against his forehead briefly.  
“Sleep well,” he made out through the static in his ears. “There’ll be some food for you when you wake up.”

Once the click of the doorknob was heard, Tommy fell into a dreamless sleep.

He woke to the smell of chocolate instead of bacon. Strangely, it didn’t smell like charcoal yet, so he assumed that someone else was baking. There was a distant chatter coming from the kitchen. He yawned and looked out the window, and was surprised to see that it was the late afternoon. School was probably almost over.

Tommy blinked a couple times before deciding to get on with his day. He couldn’t let a few hours’ nap deter him from work and chores, and so he decided to stand up. One problem: he may have stood up too quickly. His still-ill brain and uncoordinated, tired body did not work together when he began to walk. His knees promptly buckled and he collapsed to the ground.

It wasn’t anything major; all that really happened was him hitting his elbow on the wooden floor and maybe crushing something inside his backpack. He weakly scrabbled at his bedsheets in an attempt to pull himself back up to a standing or sitting position, but the door opened before he could regain any semblance of dignity. Before he looked at who it was (and so he could calm his oddly red face burning from embarrassment) he swung his legs in front of him and curled them to his chest.

Inquisitive brown eyes peeked into the room as a hand with band-aids on it snaked over the trim of the door frame. A voice spoke. “Tommy? Are you okay?”

“Tubbo— I— yeah, I just tripped. I’m fine, but… why aren’t you at school still?”

Tommy’s best friend walked into the room and sat down beside him, not even in school uniform. He looked down and fiddled with the bee charm on his necklace. His floppy brown hair framed his face, and he smelled strangely of brownies. Tommy spotted a couple of bruises and scrapes along with the usual band-aids and patches adorning his companion’s limbs, and was overcome with a fresh wave of guilt. He should have been there today. He had instead laid sleeping uselessly at home.

“You were sick today, and you weren’t there to help with.. ah… you know.” Tubbo’s eyes lit up and he waved his hands around. “But Techno came and totally got me out of school for the day and we made brownies for you! As a treat!”

Tommy snickered. “Pink prick can’t cook. Phil probably helped.”

“You got me. I forced Phil to help us with my bare hands. He was so intimidated by me he was shakin’ in his stupid green bucket hat.” said Techno, who had walked past the room and stopped to add a comment. The three could hear Phil yell from the other room something along the lines of “it’s not stupid, it’s cool”, but was met with Techno’s response of “Shut up, Kisuke Urahara kinnie.”

Tommy rolled his eyes (even though it made the pressure behind them a bit worse) and turned his attention back to Tubbo. “Oi, don’t sit too close to me. I’m still sick.”

Tubbo scooted away mindfully. “Right.”

They sat in an awkward silence for a while until Tommy blurted out, “Let me see that scrape on the knee. How’s that one healing?”

“Ah, it’s doing alright. Wilbur helped out and changed the bandage. Was a nasty trip.”

Tommy decided to address what he wanted to say. “Tubbo—er, Toby— I’m, uh. Sorry. That I wasn’t there today. I wish I could have been at school to at least help out a bit. I should have done _something._ ”

His gaze shifted over to Tommy. “It’s really fine, Tommy. Techno said the professor cancelled his lecture so he had time to pick me up and bake something for you for when you wake up. I’m happy to do things that will make you happy.”

The taller one let out a small chuckle. “God, you’re so clingy, Toby.”  
“Like you’re any better. I have a feeling Wilbur’s going at the brownies, though.”  
Tommy immediately scrambled up, feeling better when threatened with the safety of sugary treats, and started yelling at the top of his lungs, his accent deepening and growing thicker with the volume. _“WIL, DON’T TOUCH THE FUCKING BROWNIES.”_ Him and Tubbo ran laughing into the warm kitchen while the cold wind blew outside.

Fast-forward a bit to after dinner, when Tubbo went home and gave Tommy the homework assignment (which he _did_ complete, mind you). It was quiet, around 10:00 PM, and despite sleeping for most of the day, Tommy was… very tired. He had told Phil, who said something about his body needing rest to get better quicker. Techno was sitting on the couch typing away at something for school on his laptop, but he did apologize for being busy and said that if Tommy needed anything from him tomorrow, he’d be there. And Wilbur was sitting on the bed stirring hot chocolate for Tommy, making idle talk.

“You know, I’ve always liked to put a bit of cinnamon in my hot chocolate. Adds a richness to it that you can’t get without it.”  
“I hope you didn’t put any in mine.”  
Wilbur smiled the way he did whenever he was in his “Dirty Crime Boy” mood, but quickly dismissed the notion with a wave of his hand. “Nah, I know you’re not too fond of it.”

Tommy sank deeper into the mattress when he took a sip of the hot chocolate. “Ah yes, the good shit. That’s great. No cinnamon.”  
“Haha, jk… unless?”  
Tommy side-eyed Wilbur.  
“I promise I didn’t do it. I’m kidding.”  
“You’re kidding about kidding?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Alright then. Whatever you say, Big Dubs.”

Soon the mug was drained and taken to the kitchen. When Wilbur came back, Tommy was already 25% asleep, eyes droopy, mind not functioning properly. He could feel the mattress dip from the weight of Wilbur crawling into the bed with him.

“Wil, you’ll get sick,” he mumbled. “You don’t want to end up useless like me.”  
Wilbur wrapped his arms around Tommy’s still-chilly body. “Useless? Who said that?”  
“Well, nobody _said_ it, it’s just rather inconvenient for me to not be able to help around the house or do my homework, right?”  
Tommy could hear the incredulousness in Wilbur’s voice. “Tommy, you’re not useless, you never have been. I know I must sound like I’m tearing up— _which I am, please excuse that_ —but that’s because I can’t really understand why you see yourself as useless.”  
“Well, when I don’t have anything to do and I can’t do anything anyways, that’s pretty useless.”

The teen could feel Wilbur’s long arms squeeze tighter. “I’ll say it once again. You’re not useless when you’re sick. Nobody is useless because of a cold or fever.”

By this point, Tommy was too tired to respond coherently, so he just hummed something in response, eyes closed. His body felt limp and safe in Wilbur’s brotherly… _cuddle_ … so he figured he could just give up and sleep already. No use fighting the inevitable.

What Tommy didn’t know was that around an hour after he had fallen asleep, Wilbur was still holding him. He also didn’t know that when Wilbur got up and left, Techno came into his room and also gave him a peck on the forehead, murmuring a quick “sleep well, kid” to the youngest brother of the four. Everything was peaceful and everyone slept well.

Except for when Wilbur woke up the next morning, he felt oddly feverish yet cold; shivering, sweating and nauseated under the blankets in his room.


	2. 2—wilbur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first thing he thought when he woke up was “Well, I’m stupid.”
> 
> aka wilbur took no warnings last night and somehow got sick too

Wilbur hated being sick. It made him feel like a burden.

The first thing he thought when he woke up was “Well, I’m stupid.”  
He shouldn’t have gotten that close to Tommy last night. It was quite surprising how fast he caught whatever his younger brother had and how fast the symptoms developed— he felt positively _awful_. His throat felt so dry, he could barely clear it after a night’s sleep. He thought he was even feeling seasick (except for the fact that he had never gotten seasick and he wasn't on a boat). What time was it?

He mindlessly waved his hand around on the nightstand next to him until he felt his phone, then grabbed it and turned it on to check the time. The numbers looked so bright and they seemed to scream “6:43 AM” at him so loudly he had to put it back down.  
He flung his elbow over his eyes to cover them and groaned.

What was he to do when he was sick? This was the earliest time he had woken up in a while, since his sleep schedule was wrecked most of the time (not as much as Techno’s, though). It was a strange feeling to be up before everyone else.

Well, that’s what he thought before he heard a loud _plop_ coming from the kitchen, followed by a hushed “fuck”.

The profanity didn’t narrow anything down as to who it could have been. All four of the brothers swore on a regular basis. Wilbur sighed and decided he should get up anyways; no use laying in bed like a dead weight. He could grab some medicine and dry toast to help with the nausea. Maybe a banana. If he remembered correctly, bananas helped with nausea. Wilbur loved bananas.

He slowly attempted to rise from the bed and waited for a second when his head spun for the feeling to recede. He fumbled for his glasses but decided against wearing them, since that could possibly make the headache and pressure in his sinuses worse. He then continued making his way to the kitchen in the apartment for a glass of water and his beloved bananas.

When he was able to make it past the door, he saw Tommy standing very still in the kitchen holding a paper towel covered in mashed potatoes, looking down towards the floor that seemed to have the same substance splattered on it. There was a pot sizzling on the stove with two sausages in it. It would have smelled good to Wilbur if he wasn’t sick and congested.

“I… dropped the mashed potatoes,” Tommy said ruefully. He continued to silently stand there looking at the ground holding his paper towel for another forty seconds.

“...Why aren’t you doing anything about it? Clean it up, maybe?” said a confused Wilbur. Fifteen minutes into a day and he had to think about this puzzling situation.

“Right,” said Tommy, and got a new paper towel to wipe up the rest of the potatoes on the floor. “You’re sick now, aren’t you?”  
Wilbur found a stray banana on the countertop, internally rejoicing due to his find. “Yeah. It’s not your fault, though.”  
“What do you mean? I was the one who was sick in the first place.”  
“Yeah, but I was the one to hug you and shit,” argued Wilbur a bit indignantly.  
“Fair.”  
“Why are you up so early?”  
Wilbur sat down on a stool near the counter to peel his banana. “I should be asking you the same thing.”

Tommy turned away from his sausages and looked at his brother quizzically. “What do you mean? I’ve got school. I’m also making Tubbo a sausage lunch as a thank you for the brownies that him and Techno made.”  
Ah. That explained the lunch and early wake up time, even if the lunch was a rather basic or stereotypical one. Wilbur smiled. “You happy he managed to get him out of school yesterday?”  
Tommy began to take the sausages out of the pot, expression neutral. “Yeah. Yeah, I am. Don’t know how the day would have gone if I wasn’t there. Didn’t know bitch number two's lecture was cancelled, either.”  
“I’m sure his siblings could help too. Isn’t there that tall one… _what’s her name_ —“ Wilbur snapped his fingers trying to remember. “—the one whose voice sounds like if Techno and I had some sort of child—“  
“You mean Eret?”  
“Oh, yeah. That one. They could be of some assistance, he can be pretty intimidating with those ominous-looking sunglasses. The voice, too. Very deep. Intimidating.”  
“Yeah.”

Tommy finished packing the lunches and began to put his blazer, coat and shoes on, preparing to leave. “Well, it’s almost time to go for me. You feeling alright, Big Dubs? Yesterday I was pretty much out of it.”  
Wilbur took the second to last bite of his banana. “Feeling a _bit_ miserable but I can handle it.”  
“Alright. Well, the one thing I’ve to say before leaving is to make sure Techno doesn’t get sick. You know how he gets.”  
“Yeah, definitely don’t want that to happen. See you later, bitch boy.”  
“See you, god complex.” And with that, the youngest brother left for school, leaving Wilbur and his banana peel sitting in the kitchen.

Wilbur had to wait before he felt any sort of changes in the levels of sickness he was feeling. It was still a horrible experience, he had just been expecting it to die down a bit within a couple hours. By 8:30 AM Phil had woken up and was making Wilbur some toast—which the brown-haired man himself hated.

Not that he hated toast. He just hated having to burden others with taking care of him. He could have made his own damn _reheated bread_ if he didn’t have an LSD trip every time he stood up. He had insisted on doing it himself and in turn Phil decided he was going to help Wilbur. He was appreciative, but at the same time it was bothersome to be mildly incapacitated.

Wilbur didn’t like being sick purely because whenever he did fall ill, others wanted to take care of him. He never liked to bring others down if he was down. If he was having an issue, he'd much rather work it out on his own than have to drag others into the messes he made. It was his fault that he got sick because he wanted to comfort Tommy.

He glumly munched on his dry toast as the oldest brother began to get ready to head out for his own work, being out of college and having a stable job and whatnot. He sighed and placed it down on his plate.  
“You know, you didn’t have to make the toast.”  
“Wil, I saw you almost fall when you stood up. Don’t pretend you could have done it yourself. What, would you rather eat some sand?”

Despite his general tortured feeling, Wilbur smiled. That was a way to get him to feel better. He shook his head and let out a short laugh. “If it made me not sick anymore, I would. It’s quite tasty anyways.”

Phil looked at him, horrified, and chuckled unsurely. “A-ah, I, um. _I see._ Er, I’ve got to leave for work now. When Techno wakes up, tell him there’s elbow macaroni in the fridge. You can also take an aspirin or ibuprofen if the pain or aches get too much, but we’re almost out, so I’ll be doing groceries after work today too.”

Wilbur rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever, dad.”  
“I’m your brother.”  
“I’m kidding. Do you not have a sense of humor?”  
“I do, I’m just stating a fact.” And so the oldest brother left, leaving the middle two home.

Now, Techno’s sleep schedule was always absolutely fucked unless he had some sort of class or lecture before 6 AM. It was similar to that of a semi-nocturnal animal’s. On this day he didn’t have any so the time he woke up was well past lunch. Wilbur was laying around on the couch feeling very bad about everything and wallowing in self-pity and fever sweat when Techno walked out of his room in a bleary post-sleep haze.

Wilbur looked at the iconic light-up clock above one of the bookshelves, which read 2:27 PM.  
“Early wake-up, huh?” he said, struggling to talk through his dry throat.

Techno squinted at him, eyes disturbed by the afternoon light. “What?”  
“It’s earlier than the time you usually wake up at.”  
“Oh,” he replied sullenly, and stared at the floor as a parallel to how Tommy did earlier when he dropped his beloved mashed potatoes.

Ah yes, the second oldest brother of the Pandel family, the one who definitely talked the most. The most talkative one. The one who made conversation. A man of many words. Yes. Techno.

Techno trudged to the kitchen, putting his hair up in a small ponytail to reveal his undercut and dark brown roots. “Ya look like shit.”  
Wilbur didn’t miss a beat. This was normal interaction between all of them. “Thanks, sir obvious. I’m sick now, too.”  
Techno immediately whipped his head towards the tallest brother and pointed a shaky finger at him while simultaneously cleaning his glasses on his shirt. “Stay the fuck away from me. I’m not gettin’ sick.”  
“Phil said to tell you there’s elbow macaroni in the fridge,” replied Wilbur.  
The other quieted down for a moment. “Oh,” he repeated, then opened the fridge to take out the macaroni for a very late breakfast.  
“Yeah, that’s right. Go eat your pasta, you little fuck.”  
“You seem to be forgettin’ I’m older than you.”  
“Does that matter? You’re still shorter than me.”

The banter went on for a little while, Wilbur flicking through channels on the TV and Techno eating his day-old pasta. Everything seemed content except for the fact that the former was in the worst mood he could have been in. Before they both knew it, Techno was sitting on the couch letting Wilbur lean against him as a form of comfort while he kind of… vented to him. 

They hadn’t had such a peaceful, heart-to-heart moment in a long time. Wilbur rarely ever talked about his feelings to Techno, and since this was one of the few chances he was getting, he was going at it for sure. He even started to get a little tired, similar to how Tommy was the day before. While he was talking and enjoying Techno’s body heat he asked him a question.

“Do you think I’m a burden? When I’m sick?”  
When he didn’t hear an answer, he turned around to see the other’s reaction to his question, and was met with his brother’s signature “ _Heh?_ ” and face in all his emotionally constipated glory.  
“You’re not a burden. You never have been. We don’t mind takin’ care of you or anythin’.”  
Wilbur sighed. “Not even when you guys have to make me food or check in on me routinely?”  
“No, not even then. Are ya crazy?”  
“No, just… I can do things on my own, you know? I don’t need to be a bother.”

Techno gripped Wilbur’s shoulders and turned him around so they were facing each other. “You absolute idiot. You fuckin’ buffoon. _We’re brothers._ We’re supposed to help you.”

Wilbur looked up sadly with heavy-lidded eyes. “So you’re obligated to take care of me?”  
He could feel waves of frustration radiating off of Techno. When his pink-haired brother showed such strong emotions (if any), he knew he had to listen.  
“Shut the hell up. That’s bullshit. We take care of you cause we _want_ to. Don’t even try to argue at this point.”  
“Oh, alright,” said Wilbur, and fell back to his previous position, leaning on Techno. In his relatively sleepy state he was secretly glad that he said that and told him they wanted to help him.

He also suddenly remembered earlier when Techno had told him “stay the fuck away from me”.  
“You’re going to get sick,” he said quietly.  
“It’s that contagious?”  
“I was hugging Tommy yesterday, in general proximity of him, and then I got sick.”  
“I’m sure it isn’t that bad. Nothin’ I can’t handle,” hummed Techno.  
Wilbur let out a tired groan. “When you get sick you get _really_ sick. I wouldn’t say that.”  
“No, really,” Techno insisted. “I think I’d be fine. How bad is it on a scale of 1-10, 10 being the worst sickness you’ve ever had in your life?”  
“It’s at a solid 8.5, I’d say,” said Wilbur, and practically heard the “ _oh shit_ ” Techno was thinking.  
“Um, well… You know what? I think it’ll be okay. Promise. I’m not that weak.”

They sat in an uncertain silence for a while, until Wilbur interrupted it by asking if they had any brownies left from yesterday.  
“Oh yeah, we baked a shit ton of ‘em. They’re probably in the pantry or somethin’, want me to grab one?”  
Wilbur nodded, and Techno got up, unfortunately leaving him without a warm headrest, to which he made a strange noise akin to a grumble. Techno realized his mistake and put a pillow under his brother’s head as a temporary support until he got back, then went over to the kitchen.

He came back with a glass of cold milk and a plate with a few warmed-up brownies. He handed the glass of milk to Wilbur, who had sat back up for the food, and he took a sip. It was refreshing and certainly helped his throat and sinuses in terms of the heat and dryness, and for some reason quelled his nausea a little bit. The brownies were wonderfully melty and fudgey on the inside and seemed to melt in his mouth without giving much resistance, which Wilbur liked in terms of brownies. Tubbo was a good cook for sure.

Him and Techno continued to eat the brownies in silence other than the creaks of the heater beginning to kick in. It had already begun to grow a bit dark outside, as they had been talking for a while. Since it was close to wintertime, the sun set earlier, and they’d been socializing for most of the daytime they were awake for.

They managed to sit there without talking at all for the rest of the time they had before Tommy and Phil came home, the latter coming with bags of groceries including the medicines he had promised to buy. Wilbur assured him that he didn’t have to take any pills or tablets of any sort that day, but skipped dinner because he was still feeling a bit nauseous and instead went to his room to sulk a bit in his bed.

Techno came in after he ate to talk to Wilbur. He sat down on the edge of the bed as Wilbur was scrolling through Twitter (which he hated).

“I’m not goin’ to get sick.”  
“How much do you want to bet?”  
“I don’t make bets on things I know I’ll win.”

Wilbur huffed and put his phone back on his nightstand. “Fine, but I called it.”

They rested together quietly once again.  
“Tommy seemed to get over it after one day. Maybe I’ll be better tomorrow.”  
“Maybe,” said Techno. He took a deep breath and got back up again. “Look, I’ll let you sleep now, alright? A bit early but you’ll need it.”  
Wilbur smiled a genuine smile at his brother and agreed. Just as he was about to close the door behind him he called his name. “Techno?”  
He poked his head back into the room. “Yeah?”  
“Thanks.”  
Techno smiled back at him, even if it was a bit small, and replied, “No problem. G’night.”

“Night,” said Wilbur as the door shut. He fell asleep quickly that night. Techno, not so much, because he usually went to sleep around 5 or 6 AM, but he did feel a little strange when he went to sleep.

And when Techno woke up, he felt _awful._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how we feelin about all the surprise background characters huh lmao  
> the reason wilbur is the second youngest instead of second oldest in this fic like how i usually see him portrayed is bc once on stream he said he felt like tommy was a younger brother and techno was the older brother and i kind of liked that idea. but even if techno's older in this au i feel like he'd act like the younger one between him and wilbur.  
> ty for reading once again!!!! go do some self care shit now :)  
> twitter: @heymetamooki  
> instagram: @biquegg  
> i post art on these!! ^


	3. update (A GOOD ONE I SWEAR :DDD)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> update abt the fic!! i promise im not discontinuing it B)

UPDATE (A GOOD ONE! PLS READ :D)

HI HELLO !!!!!!! i know y’all who have this bookmarked are probably wondering when (if at all) im gonna update this,,,,,

WELL! I HAVE SOMETHING EVEN BETTER! IM GONNA REWRITE THE ENTIRE THING!

i was going through a very large creative burst when i wrote tommy and wilbur’s chapters but it faded out quickly because school started the next week :”[ but i’m happy to announce that i’m going to try to rewrite the entire fic again! i made some mistakes in the first two chapters (grammatical details, fd stuff, finding out tubbo is in fact not non-linear and only uses he/him [which was a bit of a confusing mix-up at the time AND i wrote it wrong… agh the _embarrassment_ ]) and rapidly went into burnout trying to get through techno’s chapter. 

i definitely didn’t expect this to get close to 10k hits (much less 1k, so holy shit thabk you for that :”D) and when i began to see all the comments coming in saying “this is super cool and pog !! cant wait for the next chapter!!” i was like “ah yes. the. the next chapter. mm” BUT! this is not out of pressure! i am rewriting this because i made a bunch of mistakes and i want to correct them all. and possibly make the word count longer.

as for the archipelago au:  
if u don’t know what that is, it’s another one of my sbi aus that has completely taken over my mind kekw haha,, i guess i can slow the update schedule for that?? i was hoping to focus on that more but now with the brownies saga i think i’ll have to update that maybe once every two weeks to alternate the two works.

remember this may be a slow process! my main thing isn’t rlly writing, it’s drawing, and writing is sort of a side thing i do when i’m in art block or just bored, so i write less than i draw anyways. if i miss out on a week or two; do not fret, i haven’t abandoned it like i have this one. it’s just slower!!

in addition to that, i’ve got lots of hw usually that takes up a LOT of my free time so i have less time to draw AND write ; w ; that and family issues does numbers on my mental health (therefore doing numbers on my writing speed)..,,..,...,,, so ………..

STILL!!!!!! IM GONNA REWRITE IT, OK?? YEAH! POG!!!!!!

all i am asking of you guys is to be patient w me :”]

when the first chapter of the revamp is out, i’ll add another chapter to this linking the new one, and i’ll leave this here too. i’ll edit some major major issues in this one such as tubbos prns (didn’t know how 2 write nonlinear prns yet AND he isn’t nonlinear it was just a mixup w some discord roles) and inconsistencies or repeats in the fic.

thank u for taking the time to read this!

stay safe ily guys :D self care! hydration! drink some water! take a shower! sleep!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeahyeah this is so epic oh woo oh yeah oh woo oh yeah i hope u guys can be patient w me :"D

**Author's Note:**

> so... how was it?? tysm again for reading :) I kinda half-assed it at the end bc i was super sleep deprived but i hope its okay! drink some water and take a break. u deserve it
> 
> come yell at me on twitter (@heymetamooki) or instagram (@biquegg)! I post art on there too :O
> 
> in terms of posting schedule i have literally nothing bc im going camping on thursday the 20th so ill have lots of writing time but no posting time


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